


Kickstart My Heart

by phantasticworks



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Oliver is precious, Parent AU, Plane Ride, airplane fic, dan is trying to be a good dad, phil is just tired of someone kicking his seat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantasticworks/pseuds/phantasticworks
Summary: Phil is having the worst flight of his life until he isn't.Based on something Phil said in his recent liveshow.
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 40
Kudos: 140





	Kickstart My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> (two fics within a few days of each other call the police)  
> but credit to fi who tweeted something about parent rights and i didnt see the liveshow but then i was redirected to a tweet about a child kicking the back of Phil's seat and him just being sympathetic on the parent's behalf.   
> this kind of spiraled out of my control (sorry lmao) but i really enjoyed finally doing some Parent!Phan

Kick. 

Phil flinches. 

Kick, kick. 

He glances to his neighbor, a woman in her mid-fifties if he had to guess. She’s fast asleep, her book still open on her lap. Evidently the football game isn’t happening behind her seat. 

Kick-kick kick-kick.

Whoever it is certainly has some sort of rhythm, Phil thinks to himself. It’s a silly thought, probably, but he’s trying to give the person a chance to prove themselves as someone who isn’t rude enough to consistently kick the back of the seat of a stranger sat in the seat in front of them. 

The kicking halts, and Phil breathes a sigh of relief. He hears quiet voices behind him, and he’s assuming that the culprit has been apprehended. He settles back in his seat, looking down at his iPad where he was previously watching a pre-downloaded episode of Free! before the kicking began. 

Assuming he’s safe to resume, he unpauses his show, turning the volume down a tad so as not to wake the sleeping woman next to him. He’s barely fifteen seconds in when there’s a pressure on the back of his seat. 

He sighs, closes his eyes, and counts to ten. 

As calmly as possible, he pauses his show and slides his headphones off entirely, turning to the aisle to peek behind his seat. 

A small child of about five is sat there, his big brown eyes meeting Phil’s in what looks like surprise. At the sight of such a small human, Phil pauses. 

“Hello,” the little boy speaks, catching Phil off guard. 

“Hi,” he replies, smiling. 

Suddenly, a third voice enters the conversation. 

“Oliver, leave this nice man alone.” Phil’s eyes flicker over to the man beside the child, his eyes meet a pair identical to the ones the little boy possesses. “I am so, so sorry,” the man says, his eyes panicked. “This is his first plane ride and I swear he’s not usually like this, we’ll leave you alone now, right-“ 

Phil laughs quietly, interrupting his ramble. A little patch of pink appears right above the man’s jaw, and Phil studies it, deciding it’s rather endearing. “It’s fine, really. You’re not bothering me,” he says, the last part directed at the little boy, who smiles at him shyly. 

“Still, I’m sorry. I told him to quit kicking the seat, and I think the last one was just to spite me.” The man sends the little boy a look, one that very clearly says “we will talk about this later.” 

“Ah,” Phil says, glancing at the little boy. He tuts at him, and the child hides a grin. “Naughty, naughty, aren’t we?” 

The little boy, Oliver, shakes his head. “No!” He protests. “’m just bored! Daddy didn’t bring any games for me to play.” He sends a death glare to the man who is apparently his father, but he seems entirely unphased by this. 

“I-“ Before the man can really protest any further, Phil speaks up. 

“I have some games on my iPad if you’d like to play them.” He glances at the man to gauge his reaction, which is a stunned, sort of hesitant look. 

“Really?” The little boy asks, his whole face lighting up. 

Phil shrugs. “Sure, if your dad doesn’t mind.” He shares a look with the brunette. 

“Erm, that’s really quite kind of you to offer, but we can’t-“

“Nonsense,” Phil says, waving him off. He unconnects his headphones from the jack and clears his apps before going to a section with mostly kids games he keeps for when he’s around his friend’s kids. “Go wild, kiddo,” he says with a smile, handing the iPad over to the little boy. 

Oliver’s eyes are big and round as he takes the device, perusing the selection of games with childlike glee. His father stares at him for a moment before snapping his head up to stare at Phil. He opens his mouth, slowly shaking his head like he’s about to insist he takes it back, but Phil isn’t having that. With a wink and a smile, he turns back around in his seat, listening to the sounds of the little boy playing a game behind him. 

~~~ 

It’s probably twenty minutes later when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He startles, as it comes from his right, where he’s positive his seatmate in the middle is still asleep. The person at the window appears to be conked out as well, so he stares in puzzlement, trying to figure out who, or what, tapped him. 

A hand comes up between the seats then, and Phil nearly screams in surprise. He just barely manages to turn it into a surprised gasp, and even then, his neighbor shifts a little, as if she’s privy to his near panic-attack. 

“Sorry,” a quiet voice comes from behind his row of seats. Phil shifts a little, turning to peer through the area where there’s a space between the seats at the top. The brunette man is smiling sheepishly at him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“You didn’t,” Phil lies automatically. 

The man smirks. “Right.” They stare at each other for a minute, and Phil’s cataloguing everything about him, from his deep brown eyes, to the concave of a dimple near his mouth, to the way that two strands of his hair are just a bit too short to sweep up into the curly mess waving over his forehead. “I’m Dan,” he says, interrupting Phil’s current attempt at drawing a mental map of the constellation of freckles on his cheek. 

“Oh. Phil,” he replies with an awkward smile. 

Dan smirks, as if he knows that Phil was just thinking about how cute his little button nose is. “I wanted to say thank you, for being nice to Olly.” His eyes move over to the little boy next to him, staying trained there for several seconds before his gaze flits back to Phil’s. “I really appreciate it.” 

Phil waves him off. “It’s not a problem, I promise. I can’t imagine how tough it is being a parent with a small child, especially on a plane. But you’re doing a great job.” He smiles warmly, letting the sincerity seep into his words. He really does mean it, too. Until the kicking had started, Phil hadn’t even realized there was a child so close to him on this flight. This was worlds away from the last flight he took, when all he was aware of was a screaming toddler two rows ahead of him. 

There’s a soft smile on Dan’s lips, and the pink patch has made a reappearance. “Thank you,” he murmurs. 

“Daddy, can you help me?” Oliver’s voice punctuates the conversation, and Dan offers Phil an apologetic smile before turning to tend to his son. 

Phil has just turned back around, trying to hide his own grin as he hears Dan struggle with understanding the mechanics of whatever game his son has chosen. After a few moments, Dan’s voice drops to a near whisper, and Phil strains to hear what he’s saying. He’s listening so intently, with his head tilted back, that the feeling of a little hand tugging at his shirt makes him yelp. 

The lady beside him fully wakes up then, giving him a dirty look before shifting around in her seat, snapping her book shut like she has something to prove. 

“I’m so sorry,” Phil says quietly to her. He feels the tug again and turns around to come face to face with the child who was previously sat behind him. “Hey, buddy,” Phil greets him with a smile. 

Oliver smiles a little shyly before handing Phil the iPad. “Daddy said to give this back to you because he didn’t know how to play the game.” 

“Oh, that’s-“ 

“Olly!” Dan hisses from the row behind him, his voice pitched high in what sounds like embarrassment. 

The child grins cheekily up at Phil, who laughs. “Here, why don’t I try to help you out, okay?” 

Oliver’s eyes light up and he nods excitedly. Before Phil has the chance to ask what game he was playing, the child is crawling up into his lap, pulling the iPad in Phil’s hand to his own lap before patiently waiting for him to unlock it. 

“Oh,” Phil says dumbly. There is a child in his lap. He’s not sure why, but that’s definitely a thing that is happening. “Well, okay.” 

He unlocks the iPad and lets Oliver pick the game he needs help on. Phil’s just walking him through what he needs to do to get to the next level when they hear a throat being cleared. It’s probably comical to an onlooker how both of their heads snap up in surprise at the same time. In Phil’s surprise he nearly drops the iPad but has the sense to hold Oliver to his chest, so he doesn’t slip off his lap. 

Dan watches this with something between disapproval and endearment in his eyes. “Oliver, I told you to give it back. Not bother him with it.” 

Oliver pouts up at his father. “Daddy, he said he’d help me!” 

“I don’t mind, Dan, really.” Phil says with a smile. 

Dan studies them for a moment, his arms crossed. Phil takes this chance to take in how tall he is, and how he’s having to bend over a little in order to stand up in the cabin. Phil hates that noticing his height makes him even hotter. 

With a sigh of what might be defeat, Dan uncrosses his arms. “Fine. But…” He hesitates then, looking at Phil with what might be embarrassment. “I’d feel a little more comfortable if you maybe moved back to our row? There’s an empty seat, and I’d just prefer to be able to see him.” He looks almost apologetic, but Phil completely understands, and he can feel his own face flood with heat when he realizes how creepy he probably looks, allowing a stranger’s kid to sit in his lap to play games on his iPad. 

“Yeah, of course. Let me just grab my stuff,” Phil says quickly, before Dan changes his mind. Because Oliver really is a sweet kid and Phil loves kids. He’s trying to convince himself that his eagerness to sit with them has nothing to do with wanting to look at Dan some more. 

“Okay,” Dan smiles, the dimple making a reappearance. “Olly, hop up, Phil will come sit with us, okay?” 

The child nods and clambers off Phil’s lap to stand next to his seat, waiting patiently. Phil allows him to carry the iPad, much to the little boy’s glee. 

Dan’s already moved back to their row, where he’s shifted over to take the window seat. The shutter is drawn, Phil notices absently. Oliver sits down in the middle seat before turning to look at Phil with wide, expectant eyes. “Sit, sit!” He cheers, tugging on Phil’s sleeve. 

“Olly,” Dan says, his voice a warning. 

Phil laughs good-naturedly before settling into the seat beside the child. “He’s fine, I promise.” He tilts his head to look at the iPad in Oliver’s lap. “Alrighty, buddy, where were we?” 

An hour passes, in which Phil struggles through simplifying explanations to the child, before eventually Oliver hands him the tablet and sits up so he can watch what Phil does over his arm. Eventually Oliver decides to move the seat rest, scooting over so that he’s pressed tight against Phil’s thigh. Phil glances up at Dan in alarm, unsure how to handle it, especially with Dan right there watching. 

Dan shrugs, and he appears to be biting back a smile. “He has no personal space,” He explains with a fond roll of his eyes. 

“Oh,” Phil says dumbly. 

“Phil, look! I did it!” Oliver tilts his head back to grin up at Phil, a toothy smile that shows off his missing left front tooth. 

“Way to go, buddy! Click on the green arrow and we can try the next level.” 

Oliver nods, scrunching his eyebrows together as he sets to work on trying to figure out the second level. Phil stares down at him, a little burst of something like fondness blooming in his chest when he sees the way a dimple carves into his cheek when he presses his lips together. He giggles to himself, glancing up at Dan, who is tapping away on his phone. 

“Dan?” Phil says quietly. 

The man turns his head immediately, smiling. “Hm?” 

Phil nods to his son. “Make that face?” He requests, holding back a laugh as Dan tilts his head, surveys his son’s expression, and then copies it. 

When Phil bursts into laughter, Dan frowns. “What?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“Hold on,” Phil gasps, pulling out his phone and looking for the bread meme. He finds it pretty quickly before tilting the phone for Dan to see. “This is what you looked like.” 

Dan looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted, but after sneaking a couple glances at Phil, he smiles. “Alright, alright. No need to bully me, Phil.” 

Phil holds his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t! You just had a derpy face.” 

Oliver, who’s apparently heard this whole conversation, looks up. “What about me? Do I have a derpy face?” He bats his puppy dog eyelashes, and Phil snorts. 

“You look just like your dad,” Phil says, trying not to insult the child. He doesn’t even mean it as an insult, anyway. Dan is cute, and so was the face he’d copied from Oliver. It just so happened to be meme worthy, is all. 

The child glances up at Dan, who scrunches his nose at him with a smile. Oliver copies the look and Phil is certain is heart is melting. “I don’t see it,” Oliver announces, turning to Phil with a triumphant look. 

Phil smiles, ruffling his hair playfully. “Don’t worry, you’re cute, it was a compliment, bubby.” 

Oliver nods, then side eyes his dad. Phil barely knows them, but he can feel like he’s about to say something cheeky. 

Sure enough, he smirks up at Phil, looking so much like Dan that it’s almost scary. “So, does that mean Daddy is cute?” He looks pleased with himself as soon as he said it. 

Dan, however, flushes. “Oliver!” 

Phil doesn’t even flinch, staring down at Oliver with a casually vague expression. “Yep, sure does.” 

The child at least has the decency to look abashed, but it only lasts a second. “Daddy broke up with my mommy because he doesn’t like girls.” 

“Oliver James,” Dan hisses. This time he sounds less amused. 

Both Phil and Oliver glance over at him, and Phil cringes when he sees the fury boiling behind his eyes. “Dan-“ 

“What?” Oliver groans. “He said you’re cute!” 

Dan looks on the verge of arguing, so Phil decides to intervene. “You know, Oliver, I don’t like girls either,” He says, with all the casualty in the world. 

Oliver looks vaguely surprised. “Not even your mum?” 

Phil laughs, gently knocking his elbow against Oliver’s shoulder. “No, you spoon! She doesn’t count. I love my mum.” 

The child nods seriously. “My mum moved to ‘Merica. Daddy said she’s gonna eat all the pancakes.” 

“Olly,” Dan sighs. He only sounds vaguely defeated now. 

“I love pancakes,” Phil tells the child, ignoring Dan completely. “They’re my favorite food.” 

Oliver nods along, lacing his fingers together and placing his hands over the iPad on his lap, which has long since turned off. “Daddy says they’re junk food.” 

Phil gasps. “Your dad doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 

Dan splutters indignantly. “I- Phil,” He whines. “I had a whole thing going with that. Now I’ll have to make pancakes every day.” 

“Oops,” Phil giggles, winking at Oliver. “Guess I ruined that one.” 

“Oops,” Oliver parrots, shrugging dramatically. 

Dan sighs, shakes his head, and leans back in his seat, his eyes falling shut. “I have lost all control of this situation,” he announces. 

Phil shares a look with Oliver, who rolls his eyes, or tries to, at least. “So dramatic,” Phil tuts. 

“Drama llama,” Oliver says in a voice dripping with disappointment. 

“I can hear you,” Dan mutters. 

Oliver pats on Phil’s arm. “Do you make pancakes?” 

“Er- sometimes, I guess,” he says, shrugging. The whole changing conversation topics every six and a half minutes is really taking his head for a spin. 

The child bounces in his seat excitedly. “You could make us pancakes! Daddy always burns them and scrapes the burn off.” 

Phil has a joke on the tip of his tongue but bites it as soon as he sees the death glare Dan sends him. Instead, he smirks. “Maybe your dad just needs someone to teach him how to cook them.” 

Oliver nods. “Prolly so.” He glances at Dan, then leans in closer to Phil. In a stage whisper, he says, “Daddy doesn’t let me have whip cream, but he puts it on his. So when he’s not looking, I eat it.” His face is full of glee when he leans away, and Phil can’t help but laugh. 

“Well, well, well,” he says, sending Dan a pleased look. Dan narrows his eyes. “I know something you don’t know,” he sing-songs. 

Dan rolls his eyes. “You’re a child.” 

Phil snorts, gesturing to Oliver. “If he likes me, I reckon I’m doing alright.” 

Dan studies him for a long moment, his lip curling up in the hint of a smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He glances down at Oliver, his face shifting into something softer, far more affectionate. “I guess you’re right.” 

~~~ 

When the flight eventually lands, Phil’s pretty sure he’ll never be able to stand again. His legs feel like they’re melded into the shape they’re in, and he’s already dreaming of how great it will be to stand up and stretch. He gathers his things quietly, as Oliver is asleep in the seat next to him. He’d fallen asleep laying against Phil’s arm, and Dan had felt so guilty, apologizing profusely. Phil had said it was fine, that he honestly didn’t mind, but Dan still shifted his child so that he was laying with his head in Dan’s lap. 

Now Dan was combing through his son’s hair gently, gazing out the window. He’d opened the blind when Oliver went to sleep, and they’d quietly chatted for the rest of the flight. Phil learned that Dan and Oliver lived in London, about twenty-five minutes away from himself. He learned that they were in Florida to visit Oliver’s mum, who Dan split up with four and a half years ago, when Oliver was only five months old. He also learned that Dan was single. 

“It’s so pretty,” Dan says softly, almost to himself. 

Phil leans over, looking out the window as well. It really was, in a way. It was breathtaking to see the clouds parting around them as the plane descended, and no matter how many times Phil saw it, he’d still always be amazed by it. “It really is,” he replies quietly. 

Dan turns his head to look at him. “I’m sorry for bothering you the whole flight.” He looks bashful. 

“You didn’t,” Phil assures him immediately. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Oliver.” He smiles cheekily when Dan rolls his eyes. “And you’re not bad company, either.” 

This has that lovely pink patch reappearing, and Phil marvels at it. “Yeah, well,” Dan mutters. “You aren’t so bad yourself.” 

Phil grins triumphantly. He’s about to reply when the wheels of the plane touch down, jostling them. Oliver stirs, but doesn’t wake. Dan cards a hand through his son’s hair, staring down at him with a fond smile. 

“Do you want me to help gather your things?” Phil asks quietly. 

Dan starts to shake his head, then seems to think better of it. “Actually,” He starts, not meeting Phil’s eyes. “If I wake him up he’ll be a little grumpy, so do you mind holding him while I gather it? He’s less likely to throw a fit since you’re a new person and he’s trying to impress you.” 

Phil smiles mischievously. “Is he the only one trying to impress me?” 

“Shut up,” Dan says with a blush crawling up his neck. He begins to wake Oliver, probably to avoid confronting Phil’s obvious flirting. 

“No,” Oliver whines when Dan shakes him gently awake. 

“Shh, I know. Here, Phil wants to see you before we get off the plane.” Dan’s voice is quiet and gentle as he guides Oliver into a sitting position. The child crawls over to Phil’s lap, rubbing his eyes. Phil smiles down at him, but Oliver pays him no attention, snuggling in against Phil’s chest and pressing his face to Phil’s shirt. Phil’s arms automatically go around him, and he feels that same bubble of affection. Children are so sweet, he thinks absently. 

Dan takes a moment to stare at them before apparently snapping out of it, quickly and quietly gathering their things into two separate bags. One is clearly Oliver’s, with a dinosaur print on the back, and the other is a black sequined one, likely Dan’s. “Cute bag,” Phil teases. 

The brunette sticks his tongue out, and Phil has to bite back his goofy responding smile. 

A few moments later everyone is filing out of the plane and Dan looks anxious, constantly glancing up at the overhead bins. “Do you have something you need to get out?” Phil asks. 

“Er, yeah. Do you mind grabbing it?” He looks like he hates to ask, but Phil just nods easily. 

“Sure.” He starts to stand, then realizes that he kind of has his hands full. “Er…” 

“Oh, right.” Dan looks embarrassed. Phil loves the pink patch even more. “Olly, c’mere, Phil’s gonna stand up.” 

“No,” Oliver says easily. His little fists dig into Phil’s shirt, and he wraps his legs around him as tightly as he can. 

“Oliver, come on.” Dan’s voice is stern. 

Oliver shakes his head against Phil’s chest. “No, Daddy.” He doesn’t sound particularly upset or petulant, but his mind is made up. 

Phil stares at Dan helplessly. Dan looks right on the cusp of flat out anger, but a voice from the aisle makes them both look up. 

“Excuse me, do you two need a hand?” A lady probably not much older than Phil is sat across the aisle, waiting for their row’s turn to stand up and file out the plane. 

“Er, we’re fine, thank y-“ Dan starts. 

“Yes, actually! Would you mind grabbing the bag above us?” Phil says politely, smiling at the lady gratefully when she nods and stands. 

“The blue one?” She asks, already tugging at something. 

“Yes,” Dan replies, sounding embarrassed. 

Phil glances at him and mouths the word “Sorry.” 

Dan shakes his head a little, offering him a half-smile. 

“Here you go,” the woman says cheerfully, handing the bag across Phil to Dan. 

“Thank you,” They say in almost perfect unison. They glance at each other and snicker, much to the amusement of the good Samaritan who is still standing in the aisle. 

“You three are so cute,” She coos. 

“Oh, we’re not-“ Dan starts. 

“Thank you!” Phil replies, talking over him. She smiles and returns to her own seat, gathering her things. Dan sends Phil a curious look. Phil shrugs. “How weird would it be to say, ‘Oh, sorry, no, this is a stranger! Not the father of my child, we just met today!’” 

Dan opens his mouth, then immediately shuts it again. He makes the bread face. “Point taken.” He glances down at the three bags in the chair between them, a sigh escaping his lips. 

“Here,” Phil says, reaching out. “I’ll put Oliver’s on his back.” 

Dan nods and hands it over, watching as Phil coaxes the child into sitting up enough for the straps to be slid onto his arms. He fusses a little, but Phil shushes him gently, reminding him that good boys on the plane have to wear their own backpacks. Dan rolls his eyes but has a quiver to his lip when he turns away.

It’s finally their row’s turn to exit, and Phil stands carefully, cradling the small child to his chest and slinging his own backpack over his shoulders. He glances back at Dan, raising a brow. “Got everything?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

Phil nods and leads the way, smiling when the flight attendants coo at him. He feels awkward, considering this isn’t his child, but he’s not bothered by their attention. If anything, some sick part of him is thriving off people assuming that he could land someone like Dan and manage to raise a beautiful child with him. 

“God, it feels so nice to stand up,” Dan groans behind him when they’re walking through the tunnel back into the airport. 

Stopping to allow Dan to walk beside him, Phil grins. “I know, right? I feel like I’m in a little sardine can every time I fly.” 

Dan nods, his nose scrunching up in distaste. “I literally hate that description, but that’s exactly what it feels like.” 

Phil laughs, slowing to a stop when they’re near some chairs. “Er, I think this belongs to you,” He says as he gently extracts Oliver’s arms from around his neck. 

“No!” The little boy cries, hugging him tighter. “No, please don’t leave! We didn’t finish our game!” 

“Olly…” Dan sighs. “Phil didn’t come on this flight just to play games with you. He’s got his own life, and we do too.” 

“But we could be in it!” He argues. Oliver tucks his face into Phil’s neck and sniffles. He mumbles something that Phil doesn’t catch, but Dan’s face shifts into something like defeat. 

“Bub…” 

Oliver turns his head a little, glaring at Dan. “You never let me keep anyone. Mummy left, and you sent Ben away, and Uncle Addy doesn’t even come see me!” 

Dan’s face crumples, and Phil’s heart splinters. He’s almost positive he’s about to start crying. To save Dan the embarrassment of crying in front of his child or other people, Phil steps closer to him, so Oliver has almost no choice but to tuck his face back against Phil’s chest. “I have an idea, buddy. How about your dad and I exchange phone numbers, that way when you want to see me and play games on my iPad he can let me know? Does that sound like a plan?” 

Oliver sniffles, considering it. Phil’s eyes find Dan’s and he watches, his chest aching, as Dan wipes away at a couple tears. He tries to smile at Phil, but it falls a little short, looking more like a grimace. 

“I guess… I guess that would be okay,” Oliver mumbles. 

Phil smiles, petting his hair. “Okay.” He glances at Dan, allowing his lips to curve up into a smirk. “Your phone number?” He asks, tugging out his own phone and unlocking it. 

Dan looks a little speechless but takes the device, creating a contact in Phil’s phone. He taps for a moment, probably sending himself a message so he’d have Phil’s number as well. He hands it back when he’s finished, and Phil tucks it away. “Okay, Oliver, time to go,” Dan says gently. 

The child sighs, but slowly detaches himself from Phil, allowing himself to be handed off to his father. He tucks his face into Dan’s neck immediately, and Phil watches with warmth in his chest as Dan nuzzles his cheek against Oliver’s temple. 

“Well… I guess we’ll be seeing you soon,” Dan says, his voice bordering on shy. 

Phil nods, biting back a smile. “I guess so,” he replies. He lays a hand on Oliver’s head, messing his hair playfully. “Be good, little man. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” 

Oliver sits up long enough to wave his little hand. “Bye, Phil, see you later.” He sounds tired, and his eyes are drooping. Phil hopes Dan can handle getting him home before he conks out again. 

“Bye, Phil,” Dan says softly. He gives Phil one last lingering look before turning to walk the opposite way. Oliver’s little face peeks up over his shoulder, and he waves one last time before they’re swallowed up by the crowd. 

~~~ 

When Phil gets back to his own flat, he checks his phone for any messages. Seeing his most recent is the text Dan sent himself on his phone, and unable to quell his curiosity, he taps on the chat. 

Phil:  
I was too scared to say   
it w olly there but u were  
very lovely to us on the   
flight and I rly appreciate  
it. also u r very cute xx

Phil:   
Is this supposed to be  
from me to you or you   
to yourself?

Dan:  
You spoon  
Its from me to u

Phil:  
Oh  
Well you are very cute too  
Xx

Dan:   
U don’t rly have to see us  
again if u don’t want   
olly will live I promise 

Phil:  
Ridiculous I want to  
Does Friday work?

Dan:  
Friday is perfect x


End file.
